Turnover on Downs
by Anselm053
Summary: Mamori reflects on her relationship with Sena, and the cost of holding on too long to an image.  Not entirely without angst.


Turnover on Downs  
Stephen Anselm

Summary: Mamori reflects on her relationship with Sena, and the cost of holding on too long to an image. Not entirely without angst.

Disclaimer: standard disavowal of ownership of all nonoriginal material.

Warning: Major spoilers for the events of chapters 154-167 of the manga and episodes 79-87 of the anime (the Devil Bats vs. Bando Spiders game, i.e. the "Who is the real Eyeshield 21?" battle). Minor references to other earlier events, and to two characters you might have missed if you blinked (see the metapages at the end of ch. 133 to refresh your memory).

Historian's note: cross-continuity. Takes place around ch.168.

(What, you expected Huntress/Question fluff?)

* * *

"_I'm sorry for not telling you until now, Mamori-neechan.. but I have to go. Because.. I am.."_

Kobayakawa Sena. Eyeshield 21.

The clubhouse was empty, but for her. The noisy rhythm of the players' practice – thud, thud, swoosh, crash, aaargh! -- shoved its way through the walls, muffled by the time it got to her, and somehow comforting. The paperwork was done, which left her time to clean up the mess that Hiruma-kun had made of the desk during his last strategy session with Musashi-san.

Time to tidy, and time to think. Which wasn't always a plus.

As long as she lived, she didn't think anything would hurt quite like those moments after Sena had confessed his identity, and run onto the field, run out of her sight.

Leaving her behind.

She remembered his explosion up the stairs, where the surprising speed she'd seen on occasion from Sena – she'd been such an idiot -- had merged before her eyes with the impossible bursts she associated with Eyeshield-kun. In his wake the smoke clouds formed into fine patterns: large flamelike tongues and small exclamation-mark wisps. And when he'd made it through the whiteness, he was gone.

Suzuna had hinted at it beforehand -- "I don't think he's as childish as you think, Mamo-nee," she'd said, and looked away. In retrospect, there were even a few times when Hiruma had seemed a little half-hearted in his excuses for Sena's absence, as if he hoped she'd hurry up and find out already simply to get the drama over with.

"Just.. leave me alone," Sena had said, when he'd been sick and she tried to take him home, where she could be sure he was okay.

Just leave me alone.

All that time she'd thought she'd been protecting him, he'd been protecting her. Working long hours late into the night because she was wasting his practice time with makework jobs to try to motivate him. Meanwhile he was training every second she wasn't around. And everyone except her had known, even the delinquent brothers. An entire team, willing to let its star player push himself beyond the limits of endurance, all because they didn't think Anezaki Mamori could take the truth.

.. and the worst of it was they'd been right. She'd never have let him join if she'd known. And now she could see that even to think those words revealed how lost in herself she'd been. "Let him join", as if she really was the mother she pretended to be, and he was the boy she remembered.

But now he was standing on his own feet. He didn't need her any more.

It's what she always wanted for him.

Wasn't it?

Was this what it was like to have a child, she wondered? To love someone so much you ached for them? Where your last thought before bed was to wish him good dreams, and your first thought on waking up was to hope he'd slept well?

Frustrated, she'd complained about the whole mess to Sara and Ako the other day.

"You're kidding, yeah?" asked Ako, sitting cross-legged on her bed. "Seriously, you're way gullible. You're what, a quarter American? How can you not recognize the reason Clark Kent and Superman are never around at the same time?" She shook her head and adjusted her glasses. "And he played football too. Well, in some versions anyway. Which is kind of cheating, don't you think?"

"But.. it's Sena." On the floor, she hugged her knees to her chest and leaned back against the bed.

Sara had been a little more sympathetic, and looked down from the chair with her kind, sleepy eyes. "Mamori-chan, what's the real problem? I'm not saying you were wrong to watch out for him, but you have to agree now that he can handle himself, right?"

"I know," she said. "That's not it."

"Then what? He's Eyeshield 21. He's not just good at what he does, he's one of the best. He'll be fine. Better than fine."

"I've got it," said Ako, and snapped the book she was flipping through shut with a grin. "You think you missed your chance. You were hoping that he'd grow up thanks to you, and then.." She dropped her voice an octave. "'Nee-chan.. you've always been there for me. I was too young for you before, but now..'"

Mamori blushed. "No."

"Oh? Are you sure?" Ako smirked, and pointed at Mamori's face. "Then what's bringing that rose colour to your cheeks? No need to be embarrassed, it's totally typical." She waved at the manga volumes in her collection. "Childhood friend with a sibling-like relationship but no blood ties? You were doomed from the start, it's in all the books."

"Ako--" interrupted Sara, as Mamori was becoming dangerously red.

She relented. "Sorry. 'm only teasing."

"Really, that's not it," Mamori said, before her natural honesty compelled her to add, "I don't think, anyway."

Sara left her chair to join Mamori on the floor, and gave the depressed girl a quick hug while she sent a not-entirely-mock glare Ako's way. "You know, it wouldn't be the first time that someone had.. complicated.. feelings, and didn't realize how complicated until things changed. There's no shame in being sad to lose a daydream, even one you didn't know you had."

"I just don't understand. Two weeks ago I thought I knew Sena better than anyone in this world, and now.."

She shrugged sadly. "Now I don't. Apparently I never did. Somehow it all happened when I wasn't watching. Maybe because I wasn't watching. So everyone else became a part of this big story, the adventure of Kobayakawa Sena the Light-Speed Running Back. And me.."

"I'm comic relief." Her eyes started to water. "No, it's worse than that. I'm the selfish, narrow-minded principal the kids have to outwit to save the day, the one that loses at the end of the movie and everybody cheers."

"Ma-- Mamori-chan," said Ako softly.

_Sena.. atashi no Sena-chan.._

Sara cradled her in her arms as the tears fell, and Ako ran her hands gently through Mamori's hair. No one said anything save some whispered words of comfort she couldn't even make out; only the warmth of being held mattered.

Eventually the river slowed. "I'm.. I'm okay now."

"You sure?" asked Sara, and used the corner of her shirt sleeve to wipe away some of the tear-tracks.

"Yeah."

"Mamori-chan," said Ako, apologetically, "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was hurting you so badly, or I'd nev--"

Mamori reached up and gave Ako's knee a pat. "It's okay," she said, sniffling, and then smiling a little at how unpersuasive the sniffle made her sound. "Really. It's my fault, I shouldn't be crying like this. Everything's just been.. a bit much, lately. This has probably been due for a while."

Sara moved and let Mamori's head rest on her shoulder. "You're the only one who can decide what you're feeling, and what you should do about it. If I were you I'd leave it all alone for a while and think things over.. and I mean everything, including the stuff you won't admit to your best friends."

"Not that we're saying there is any such thing, of course," Ako said. "Just to clarify."

"But there are a couple things I can tell you. First, whatever happens, Ako and I are always here for you."

"Always."

"And second: just like you'd do anything to protect Sena, even if it turned out that you didn't need to, that boy loves you right back and would do anything to keep you from worrying.. even if you could manage to stop. So try to cut him some slack, 'kay?"

"Yeah," Ako added. "He learned overprotectiveness from the very best. Can't blame him for being a good student.."

Mamori rolled her eyes, but had to acknowledge the point with a sheepish grin. "Maybe." She brushed at the last of the dampness. "Thanks, guys."

"Anytime."

That conversation had taken place three days ago, and since then she'd come to understand a few things. Including about Suzuna-chan. When Mamori had been weeping in shock at the revelation before the Bando game, Suzuna had been cheering her heart out.

"Sena!" the girl had shouted as if she'd been ready to burst, full of joy and pride. She'd sparked a chant in the Deimon side of the stands that echoed through the stadium. "Sena, Sena!"

And afterwards, when Mamori had crossed the room to enjoy Hiruma's strangely happy smile, she'd caught a glimpse of Suzuna holding up an exhausted Sena in the hallway. She was looking down at his semiconscious face with a tender expression that Mamori recognized all too well. He'd trusted Suzuna to catch him when he fell, and she was obviously willing to accept the role.

It didn't take an Ako to see how that story would end.

They'd always be friends, she told herself, trying not to sound too wistful: that much she knew. He might not even ever stop calling her 'Nee-chan. But in his new life she wasn't at the centre any more. Seeing Sena become a man that others respected, that he himself could be proud of -- a man who through natural talent and tireless effort and indomitable will made the laws of physics look like suggestions -- that would be enough for her.

It would have to be enough. Because that's all that was left.

Her introspection was suddenly interrupted by a familiar cry from outside. "Yaaaa-haaaa!" went the scream, followed up by the sound of gunfire and the terrified pleas for mercy by the players.

"Hey, ;!!/&# manager! Get your !#-£; ;#;!)! out here!"

She barely noticed Hiruma-kun's profanity these days; she'd long since adapted to translating his words and actions. If he kicked you without saying anything, it was praise. If he kicked you, insulted you, and then told you to do it again until you got it right or he'd set Cerberos on you, that was his version of encouragement.. and setting the monster on you even after you did get it right was his idea of positive reinforcement. Violence and blackmail and intimidation and theft were as natural to him as breathing was to ordinary people, and as near as she could tell there wasn't any line he wasn't willing to cross to win.

In every way she could think of, he was a despicable human being.

.. but when he and Musashi had the opportunity to join Shinryuuji – and almost guarantee themselves the chance to play in the Christmas Bowl, with a decent shot at taking home the championship – Hiruma had told Agon what he could do with himself. Because even though it was everything he was looking for, he wouldn't take the offer if Kurita couldn't be there to share it.

Instead he'd come to Deimon and built his own team from scratch, laughing maniacally in the face of the ludicrous odds against him.

Hiruma was definitely.. well, who knew? Made of mostly evil, no question.. but something else too, even if she didn't quite know what that was yet. She'd have to find out, because there was one thing she was certain of. Her inability to get beyond her own preconceptions and recognize the truth in the people around her had left her forever an outsider in the life of the one person she cared the most about; and there was nothing she could do to change that.

She wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Coming," she yelled back.


End file.
